


Gonna Let My Soul Carry My Body

by karrenia_rune



Category: Highlander: The Series, Killjoys (TV)
Genre: Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-09-02
Packaged: 2018-12-22 23:54:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11977758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karrenia_rune/pseuds/karrenia_rune





	Gonna Let My Soul Carry My Body

**Author's Note:**

  * For [merriman](https://archiveofourown.org/users/merriman/gifts).



Disclaimer: Highlander: the Series belongs to Panzer/Davis, MGM and its creators as do the characters who appear here or are mentioned.  
Killjoys belongs to its creators and the Syfy channel.

"Gonna Let My Soul Carry my Body"

 

The Quad was a big place, big enough that one who only had a passing knowledge of it could manage to get lost in it. Methos wished that he'd known that before he'd signed on with a pirate crew who'd been paid to keep their mouths shut about certain clandestine arrangements that he had made on Qresh. 

He shrugged his supple shoulders and asked himself, really how was he to know that the medical materials he'd procured in good faith would never reach their destination? or that they were only available on the black market?

Like he had once told that insufferable eternal boy scout, Duncan MacLeod, what do you need? Doctor, Lawyer, Indian Chief, tarot card reader; I've got paperwork to cover it all."

MacLeod, he scoffed, why did his thoughts keep turning back to him? And where in this god-forsaken galaxy would he find the other immortal? 

The one-man shuttle was old but not as old as the man piloting it. He'd been forced to haggle over the price with dealer of old and refurbished vessels on a drift-world where he'd also managed to assemble provisions, several cases of beer: because he not really had the opportunity to sample the beers of this far-flung future yet; plus more clothes.

His sword was in a case tucked under the pilot's chair. In the time he'd spent in the Quad he'd only had to take it out to polish it. The pirates thought he was eccentric but mostly harmless and had congratulated themselves of having taken advantage of him. Little did they know,' he mentally scoffed.

In any case, sitting around wool-gathering while he plotted his next course of action would not get anywhere fast; so what next? The ship canted distinctly to the left forcing to concentrate on compensating for it. Then it hit him, maybe he should start thinking like MacLeod if he were to find him. "Old Town, it would appeal to his mawkish, cursed sentimentality." 

Elsewhere, aboard Lucy, Dutch, D'avin, Pawter, Johnny  
"Hey, Lucy," D'avin called, "have you seen Johnny?"

"No, D'avin, I have not in the past forty-eight hours, 60 minutes and..."

"A simple yes or no will suffice, Lucy. Thanks. Since we're on the subject, do you know where he is?

"My lips are sealed," Lucy's electronic synthesized voice replied tartly.

"D'avin smacked his hand against his forehead. "I know, we know that Johnny's you're favorite. Why I don't know, and I know AI's aren't supposed to have emotions, but this is important, Lucy."

"Very well. I was sworn to reveal Johnny's whereabouts until he was already well on his way."

"Why the hell not?" D'avin began to shuffle his weight from one foot to the other. Although they were brothers it had been a long time since he and Johnny had really gotten to know one another, and he had feared that all that time apart might have driven a hard wedge between them, but instead, it had been an impetus to bring them closer together. 

And for some reason, he could not fathom he had developed an almost instinctual need to protect his little brother despite knowledge of the fact that Johnny was more than capable of taking care of himself. However, D'avin still could not quite rid himself of a nagging 'itch' at the back of his mind that something was not so much wrong, as 'off.'

"He said it was a personal matter and he did not wish the rest of the team to get involved unless it was necessary," Lucy answered.

"I don't like the sound of that. I'm gonna talk to Dutch. Oh, and Lucy, did he log a flight plan or anything."

"He left a note in his quarters."

"Great; just great."

****  
Johnny and Pawter

"Well, Johnny Jaqobis, as I live and breath," Pawter Simms teased. "What brings you to my door."

"As if you have to ask," Johnny remarked, striding through the open door of her walk-up apartment and embracing her, planting a lingering kiss on her lips; she returned as eagerly as he did.

She let go. "Not that I'm not glad to see you, but what do you want?"

"Do I have to want something in order to come see you?" he asked mock-severely.

"It goes with that uniform you're wearing," she said.

"I know, and I left a note, but I told Lucy not tell the others where I was going until they couldn't talk me out of it."

"What are you looking for?" 

"Not a what, a who."

"I'm looking for a guy named Adam, although I understand he's used multiple aliases over the years, and he's elusive as a wet eel." 

"You really think this Adam guy is here in Old Town?"

"Yeah," Johnny replied.

"If he is, how can I help? I'm just a doctor?" Pawter Simms asked.

"The problem is the guy's uh, complicated. You see, the Qresh authorities want him for smuggling, possible embezzlement, gambling etc, etc."

She shook her hair and finger-combed the worst of the snarls out of it. "It's the etc. that concerns me."

"The RAC think the opposite, that he's an escaped lab rat and the folks that we're keeping him locked up want to find out what makes him tick cause he's got this bat-shit crazy longevity going for him."

"Seriously, longevity. How old is this guy supposed to be?"

"I don't know,: Johnny replied with a shrug. All I do know is that from his file picture he appears to be about 30-40 years old but medical experts say he's been around a lot longer than that."

"How long?"

"About as long as the RAC and the Quad have existed, and my guess, is there are more as these people with what medical experts are referring to as the Eternal gene."

"Seriously?" From a medical standpoint, I can tell you that there's no such thing as a fountain of youth or a longevity gene. If there were it'd be worth its weight in galactic creds."

"I know, I know," Johnny grinned. "All the same, I have to admit to being intensely curious."

"Johnny, I love you," Pawter said, "but this is crazy. And you what they said about curiosity;, it's killed more than a few felines in its day."

"So, are you in?"

Pawter sighed and tapped her hand against the side of slacks, then darted a glance out the window at the darkening summer sky; then back at Johnny. "All right, all right. I'm in."

"I knew I could count on you!"

****  
Joe Dawson wondered if the crowd gathered tonight at club would make of his old-school music. He'd taken to booking gigs whenever he could get them and the owner of the club had promised to pay half now and the remaining balance at closing time. Standing out in the sweltering heat wool-gathering would not do him any good; so he knocked at the door was opened by the bouncer.

"Oh, you're here. The boss is getting a mite squirrely, but the equipment is all set up like you asked for."

Joe nodded and stepped through into the club. He'd seen the place only on his PDA but not up close. The club had high ceilings, with burgundy contoured couches and recessed booths for booth imbibing and consuming the club's eclectic menu. It also had a dance floor with light strobing casting a multi-colored hue over the dancers, and a full-service bar.

Dawson shrugged, He hadn't come for the beer despite the fact that a little something to wet his dry throat would not go amiss.

The owner met at the smaller prep area just behind the main stage, "Dawson, I almost started to think that you wouldn't show tonight."

"Ghee, whatever gave you that idea?" replied Dawson.

"No matter, no matter. Ghee Rhys had the cinnamon-colored skin and dark eyes of his Indian sub-continent forebears but the blue eyes were from his white mother. He was generally a cheerful exuberant man and generous to his clients and patrons, however, the lines around his mouth and eyes from laughter had developed a tightness of late from possibly stress or something else. Dawson put it down to stress.

"I'll just take a moment to warm up my guitar, before going on stage; if that's all right?"

"Fine, Fine." Ghee muttered distractedly.

"What's wrong?"

Ghee sighed and ran his hands through his black hair. "Dawson, you're a good egg, and I really like you. I'd hate to bother you with my worries...."

 

"Why don't you tell me, In addition to music, I think you'll find I'm a man of many talents."

"It's just, well...."Ghee trailed off. He pulled a knife out of a sheath strapped to his belt and held it up. I'm going to trust you with this Dawson and promise me you won't tell anyone else.

Dawson nodded.

Ghee took the knife, turned it around and then rapidly made a gash in his forearm which immediately began to drip with blood; and in the blink of an eye the wound began to seal up again with tiny almost impossibly minuscule blue flashes of light.

"I, I've don't. Can you understand why I can tell no one!"

Dawson nodded, placing a soothing hand on the distraught young man's arm. "Rhys, settle down. I won't tell a soul; my word on that."

"How?"

I know what this means, and I also know that you need to keep it quiet. In fact, after I'm done here, I'll take you to a few people who can help you even more than I can just now."

Ghee nodded. "Thanks, really, thanks. I thought I was going crazy, and the word around Old Town is that...."

"What?"

Ghee Rhys shrugged and shuffled his feet on the indigo shag carpet, before adding: It seems the powers that be in the Quad take a dim view of well, whatever it is that I've got." That they're planning on cracking down on it before it uh, spreads"

"It's not an infectious disease, son," Joe replied, "It's just is what it is." Why would the people in government even know about this or care?"

 

"How should I know!" Rhys exclaimed.

Just then Ghee's assistant Antonia Blaylock arrived, signaling that it was time for Dawson to go on.

Dawson nodded, bent down to remove his guitar from its case and carried it through the swinging door that led from the prep area directly onto the stage.

He sat down on the bar stool provided for him a took a lingering glance over the gathered audience; then began playing: sometimes fast or at other times slow, tunes that he'd always loved that came back to his fingers strumming the strings of the old guitar that had always served him so well and so faithfully. Others, he closed his eyes as he attempted to bring the melodies and lyrics to the forefront of his mind.

During the intermission Dawson realized that there had been a subtle shift in the mood of the audience, as something untoward had happened but he was unable to tell exactly what had caused the shift, but it was undeniable. 

Perhaps whatever it was had something to do with Rhys' fears after all.

He took a sip of the beer that Antonia brought to him during the intermission and considered that the matter warranted further investigation.

About a half hour later as he was finishing his last set a man in a dark suit came up to the stage and leaped up onto the stage, flinging a folded piece of paper at him. Dawson caught and swore under his breath, "What the hell!"

"Take this, and make sure to let your friends know that it is deadly earnest, and consider yourself warned." the stranger said before disappearing into the crowd and the shadows.

He finished his performance, to a roaring applause, bowed and exited the stage, determined to get Ghee Rhys to his friends and more than ever. He wanted to help, but he also wanted answers. Who was the fellow? He obviously was not working alone? And more importantly, what did they want with Immortals?

 

****

Joe comes to Duncan and Richie to warn them

"MacLeod!" Dawson called as soon as he arrived at the house. he took the freight elevator up to the second-floor calling, "Mac, you home. We need to talk!"

Ghee following along in his wake shivered, rubbing his arms as if he were cold; although considering it was blazing hot, except in the pockets of shade, should not be. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"I'm sure," Dawson replied. 

"Joe!" Richie exclaimed, pausing half-way to greet Dawson when he felt the tell-tale distinct "Buzz" of the presence of another Immortal. "Ah, who is this?"

"Ghee Rhys, and you can relax, Rich, I brought him here because he needs Mac's help. In fact, maybe the both of you can help him, but I'd rather do this somewhere more private."

"Okay, Joe. I'll go get, Mac..."

MacLeod came out of the office where he'd trying to balance the account books.

"Joe," he greeted. 

"The kid here is a friend of Dawson and he needs our help," Richie summarized.

 

Duncan MacLeod nodded, "bring him down to the den."

When they were seated and Richie had poured several glasses of beer, Dawson got to the point. "Kid's an Immortal, newly-minted, but Immortal nonetheless.

"How do you know so much about ah, Immortals," Rhys asked, his eyes wide.

"I've been around the block," Dawson. I've got my ways, which we need not go into depth the moment." He pulled out the folded piece of paper that the stranger in the club had forcibly thrust upon him and handed it to MacLeod.

"What do you make of this?"

Duncan unfolded and read it. "To whom it may concern, No that your days are numbered and we of the Brotherhood of the Nexus are vowed to bring your unnatural longevity to an abrupt end. Know this: You have been warned."

"I'd say this Brotherhood has some big shoes to fill."

"It ain't the Hunters under another name?" Richie asked.

"I'd thought of that too," Dawson replied, with a twisting of his lips remembering the Hunters and his former now deceased brother-in-law James Horton and his zealots. This was Brotherhood was something else; definitely something else.

"I'm scared," Ghee muttered.

"That's exactly what they want, son," Dawson said. It's all right. We'll help you."

"Who are they? Want to do they want with us?" Richie exclaimed. It's bad enough to ah, half the usual ah head-hunters after without this adding to it."

"I'm going to put out some feelers, see what I can dig up on this Nexus Brotherhood. In the meantime, can Ghee stay here? I don't think it's safe for him to go home right now," Dawson said.

"He can bunk with Richie," Duncan replied.

"Then it's settled," Dawson said.

"I'll see you in the morning. Good night, Joe."

 

****

Fight Scene

"Hey, Mac, have you see Rhys?"

"No, not since last night."

"When I got up to take a shower this morning after my workout in the dojo he was gone."

"Damnit! When was this?

"About 6 am, he was sound asleep," Richie replied.

"We'll have to go after him. It's not safe for him out there even if some fanatic bounty hunters were not after his head." Go get dressed and bring your sword."

"Right. Always be prepared for anything."

A short while later they had managed to pick up Rhys's trail. The kid had not made much of an effort to hide it; it appeared his nerves had finally taken a toll on him and he'd made a headlong dash in more or less easterly direction towards what would have been considered back in the Old Earth days as a China Town.

But that was a long time ago; perhaps half as long ago as MacLeod 500 plus years, but nobody even thought about that sort of thing now. The past was the past and for the majority of the residents of Old Town the here and now took priority.

Duncan led the way and wound into the interior of the market area, scanning for Rhys

Richie finally spotted Rhys who, in his headlong flight, was not really paying attention to obstacles in his path, and had collided with a tall black-clad figure; a uniform of sort.

It was only when they got closer that Richie realized that these were RAC agents.  
Exchanging a significant glance with MacLeod, he questioned whether or not this improved there chances or not.

 

**

"Sorry," Rhys mumbled, looking at his feet and not directly at the woman he had collided with, as he had done with countless others he runs into, knocked over, or overturned their counters of wares in the marketplace.

The woman had long black hair caught up in an elaborate braid took him by the shoulders and held him up at arm's length, with surprising ease. 

"Hey, Dutch, I think you've got a secret admirer," one walking alongside her remarked.

"Hey, there, kiddo, What's the rush?" the woman addressed as Dutch asked.

"I, I'm scared." Rhys whispered.

"Of what?" Dutch asked.

"The Nexus."

The other man, a head shorter than the first but with similar facial features, let out a whistle. "No wonder, Kid." 

"Johnny," Dutch said in a low cautionary undertone. "That's ah well, supposedly a myth."

Johnny nodded. "Like what we're looking for was supposed to be a myth for the past, what it is not, two hundred years?"

"D'Avin, take charge of. What's your name?" Dutch asked.

 

Ghee Rhys suddenly straightened up and heaved a deep sigh. "I wish people would stop calling me a 'kid.' I have a name. It's Rhys, Ghee Rhys."

"Well, Mister Rhys..."Johnny began.

Whatever else he would have added was cut short by a whirring sound like dozens of hornets swarming out of disturbed nest, and a brace of wickedly sharp daggers began embedded into the wall of the building opposite of where they stood; others into the ground.

Dutch drew her own daggers, Johnny and D'avin hands dropped automatically to their own weapons.

"RAC!" a distinctly male and raspy and disgruntled voice rasped from out of the shadows. "Stooges and Losers!"

"You've got some nerve, you pieces of shit!" D'avin yelled back. Why don't you come out of the shadows and fight for real!"

"Despite our differences, Mister Jaqobis, or pardon, I forget, they are two of you know. My fight at the moment is not with you or with the RAC; it is with the boy cowering behind you."

Just then MacLeod caught up with the cloaked rogue bounty hunter and using a practiced sweeping martial arts move knocked the man off of his feet and then forcibly turned the man around by a tight grip on his hair.

Richie was close on his heels and came to a stop to say how MacLeod wanted to play it.

"More of you," the man spluttered. "What is it with you anyway. I never heard that you travel in packs. I thought it was all about saving numero uno."

"Perhaps you don't know us as well as you think you do," MacLeod replied.

"Who are you? What do you want with us?"

"I think the answer should be obvious, if we were ordinary bounty hunters/assassins, it would be all about the pay-off and the thrill of the hunt." And you Immortals have to deal with one way or another."

"It's more than that?" MacLeod asked; it was more a statement than a question.

"Yes."

"Why Ghee?"

"He's new. The Brotherhood figures that us newbies start at the beginning of the pecking order and work our way up."

"That's so wrong in so many ways, you effing bastard!" Richie exclaimed.

"I happen to agree with you, young man," Dutch said as she approached and came up to them. "So, we have a problem. What are we going to do with him?"

 

"We could just kill him," D'Avin suggested.

A young woman with long brown hair who was not wearing a regulation RAC uniform hurried over and bent over the prostrate man on the ground. "He's still breathing."

"Pawter?"

"You brought me along in case you or anyone else required medical aid, I'm doing that. Also, yeah, this guy scans as human," she ran a silver-sheathed medical scanner over the Nexus agent and shook her head. "The kid, sorry, Rhys, scans, well still within the range of human, but I need tissue samples, blood tests, to make certain.

"I don't want.."

"It's okay, Rhys, it won't come to that. And the Doc is just being through, she doesn't mean you any harm either," Johnny said.

 

As for the Nexus agent, bro, if you kill him we won't have a chance to interrogate him," Johnny said.

"For that matter, why do you two care?" Dutch asked.

"He, well he threatened our friend Ghee Rhys over there," Richie began, and it's ah, it's a long, kinda complicated story."

"Care to uncomplicate it?" D'Avin asked.

"I see," Dutch replied. "Whom do I have the pleasure of meeting?"

"MacLeod, Duncan MacLeod and this is my ah, young friend, Richie Ryan. He's my.

"Intern," Richie helpfully supplied.

"Yes, Mr. MacLeod, Mr. Ryan, My name is Dutch, this is Johnny and D'Avin Jaqobis, and we're with RAC. and although our warrant called for serving an outstanding warrant on an Immortal by the name of Methos, aka Adam Pierson I think we'll settle for taking this guy in. Anyone have any problem with that?"

"No."

"We're going to agree to disagree on this?" Johnny remarked.

We are," MacLeod replied.

 

"Perhaps a compromise can be arranged," Dutch suggested.

"What kind of compromise?"

"We take the Brotherhood guy back with us, but any useful intel we gather on him and his cronies we share with you," Dutch said.

Duncan thought this idea over for more than a few heartbeats and then replied, "Very well. But I want your promise that you'll play level with us."

"You have my word of honor," Dutch replied.

***  
Conclusion  
"Any idea where Methos has been these past six months?"

"No idea," Duncan replied, "but you can be certain that he's fine."

"I hope so," Dawson replied. It's bad enough that RAC is after Immortals because they play by the rules. These Nexus Brotherhood don't seem to have any rules at all, and they're a lot more ruthless."

"I'm sure that Methos can take care of himself. He always does."

"I'm sure you're right," Richie added.

"I hope so, Rich, I really hope so," Joe Dawson muttered.


End file.
